


Hostage

by Awkward_Taco



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Depression, Drugs, Gen, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Multi, Opium, References to Drugs, Sex, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-01-21 03:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_Taco/pseuds/Awkward_Taco
Summary: It's a songfic. The song being used is Hostage by Billie Eilish.You are a stressed person who just wanted to get away from everything for a night. Little did you know that a tall figure choked you out and you live with him now..and you have no plans on leaving...
Relationships: Lawrence (Boyfriend to Death)/Reader, Lawrence (Boyfriend to Death)/You, Lawrence/Protagonist (Boyfriend to Death)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. I want to be alone...

My legs crunched through the dead leaves as I walked through the forest. I’ve always come back here when I get stressed out, or have my episodes, or even to just...get away...but tonight something told me to come here, and I think it was to get away from everything. 

The pressures from work and with family, having them constantly call me and need me for something, and I can’t say no to them. I know they need me, but...Apart from that, it feels like they are just using me. Having to be isolated at home and not being able to go out with friends due to my father’s way of thinking that my little sister can’t fend for herself because of her mental state and having to stay back at home sick and cleaning while everyone else had fun without me. I felt alone, and angry... It felt like a monotonous monochrome filter upon a highly saturated photo. You keep rubbing your eyes expecting to see the colors, but all you see the smudged ugly grey of what used to be something beautiful. Everything looked grey, everything looked dull. And it was the same thing over and over for me. 

I just wanted to get away. I wanted the cold winds to take me somewhere new. I wanted the trees to sway their branches pointing me the direction of where I was supposed to go. I wanted the deer to point me in the direction of the river, or anywhere, anyplace to where I can be alone. Something about tonight was tempting and I...and I...I don’t know why I’m here. I’m just here. Walking...

More dried autumn leaves crumble under my steps. I like the sound of fallen leaves and the sound they make when stepped on. It’s not because of the death, it’s more of the life that comes after it. Season after season, tree after tree, the leaves will come back. Bushes will bear fruit. Animals will come out of their holes for a new beginning. I guess I’m looking for my new beginning too.

I followed the path even further and the harvest moonlight shined on the ground I trudged my shoes against. I kept my eyes straight forward as I listened to the crickets. I felt I was far enough when I started to hear rushing water. I walked faster towards it, my disheveled hair laid down on my shoulders, my hood pulled away from my face. I couldn’t wait to see the ice-cold water rush through my legs. I couldn’t wait to float and glide on the surface. I couldn’t wait. I marched my way through the brush, past the weeds, and eventually, I was there. He was there too...

His long blond hair tied back loosely down his back, the grey hoodie he wore that was far more worn down from mine, his pale skin reflected the moon’s light so well that I almost thought he was the moon himself. And he was sitting at the edge of the river. He sat by the water and his hand tapped the gently flowing stream ever so slightly as if he was afraid of it. I wanted to say hello, but the aura of the place was nauseating. The pungent smell of rotting meat was close, and as I squinted in the distance, I could see more past him. Things dangling from the trees. I couldn’t make of what it was, nor was I interested, I wanted to be alone, I didn’t want to be bothered, I wanted to dunk myself in the river and never float back up again. 

I walked around him, I walked around the scent. I found a place that I could sit and be alone. I took my shoes off, placed my thick socks in them, rolled my pants up to my knees and placed my feet in the cool water. A deep sigh came from my nose as I laid down with my feet feeling the currents rush past them. The sounds of the water moving past the rocks, moving small pebbles and eroding dirt and moss off of them. The sounds of crickets chirping at this time were calm, it was nice and cold for them to chirp at a reasonable rate that didn’t sound too loud. I continued to lay there by the water as a loud splash was heard and I felt the liquid sprinkle on me and that rancid smell came back and invaded my space. I was scared to open my eyes. I was scared to either see someone or something over me but I needed to know what was nearby.

Soft panting and feeling the air hit my face, I had to open my eyes. And I saw him. He and his striking blue eyes. His skin looked so soft under the light. It illuminated his features, even more, showing me his 5 o’clock shadow, the flannel he wore underneath the hoodie. The rancid smell was still there, it was an ominous, stinky, pungent smell that would deter almost everyone I knew. The smell never went away as he got closer to my face. 

At this point, I realized why I was there, not to relax, not to scream or cry...I wanted to die. I wanted to drift down the water and let my body expel all the air it had. I wanted to go to the river, but I hadn’t done it. I was scared. The thought of suicide had been in my mind for years and I brushed it off every moment it came. And now this man, this strong man with ice blue eyes is getting closer to my face and I’m not moving. I refused to move. I would let anyone kill me to get me out of the life I lived. That way I can start a new beginning, an end to this old life. I could’ve finally seen color again. But no...Everything went black. a small, soft voice arose, “I will take care of you...”... “It won’t be like last time”...

What is that supposed to mean? This man who suffocated me, the man whom I’ve never met wants to take care of me all of a sudden? It’s hard to believe...It’s hard...to...


	2. Alone with you, Does that Make sense?

I woke up in a daze. It felt like my mind was spinning. I tried to reach for my head but my arms felt heavy. The blur from my eyes eventually focused to see a wide array of house plants on two large tables and a few smaller ones on the window still and floor. My eyes begin to focus on everything around me. A warm light singes every corner of my peripheral. It stung but was slightly more comforting seeing plants.....and a dimly lit cityscape just past the windows???

“How did I...?” I whispered as I moved my arms once again and see them bound firmly to the chair armrests with duct tape. Puzzled, I try to remember what I did last night. I walked to the forest, I laid down...I wanted to be alone...and I suddenly remember blond hair. That guy...This must be his place...and now I’m here. 

Many small sharp clicks came from my left side. I turned my head to see the man who brought me here. The man who was laying by the river who was surrounded by-...death...My sudden realization made me jump in the chair which scooted and tipped over the side towards one of his plants. He did those things, he hung those things up, the smell of rotting meat was exactly what I thought it was and what I saw in the distance were entrails...and I didn’t even care enough to just call the police. I was far more invested in myself and the strong want to- die... I was in the middle of an episode, and he choked me and dragged me here.

He quickly locked the many locks on his front door and came to me, “You’re awake...” and he lifted the chair up with me in it like it was just a small package, “I saw you place your legs in the water, and something about you...I just wanted you here....” 

I had no idea what this guy was saying. I didn’t know his name, and who knows how long I’ve been here. He might’ve drugged me while I was unconscious, “I’m...I’m sorry, what?” 

“I saw you, and I wanted to keep you...Take care of you even..” His face went soft as he rubbed his palms against his grey sweat pants. He smiled an awkward smile at me as I kept looking at him. I don’t want to believe it.

His face went back to that awkward lip-biting face of silence. It echoed in my head that “Take care of me...how?”

“Like, feed you, give you shelter, but...you stay here. This is your home now. I can’t allow you to leave.” 

I looked at him in disbelief and I leaned my head back, “And you suddenly think I’ll accept that? Even though I just wanted to be alone for a short while away from my family-”

“Family...You have other people...” His eyes turned dark, “As I said. I don’t allow you to leave.” 

“But you have to! They need me, they won’t be able to do stuff at home on their own, and I have to be there for them, No matter how much I hate it. I still do it for them...” He looked at me with wide eyes and marched to where I was captive. I wanted to move but my legs were bound to the same chair. He got close to my face and held my neck. His eyes were almost predatory, the blue shining past his bangs. His hand gripped against my throat and I felt myself feeling constricted.

“As much as you want to go home. You hate it. You aren’t leaving. You’re staying here.” He spoke softly past my ear, The way he said it was demanding, but almost sad as he dragged his hand away from my neck and placed it on my chest. I didn’t want to say anything that might set him off. For a quiet guy, I surely felt like I had to be careful of what I say around him.


	3. I want to steal your soul, and hide you in my treasure chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawrence and his fascination with your spine and the protag almost get nostalgic at the sight of steam

A sharp pressure is felt at the back of my neck as I whimper in my confinement of a chair. I did my best to not move too much since it feels like he’s digging deeper than he was the many nights before. The warmth of my lifeline runs down the base of my neck and flows over my back staining my shirt. 

“Your spine... I could imagine how much vertebrae and how your disks squish and pinch between them. I want to keep it...” The knife continues digging into my neck as he scrapes against my bones. I can feel my bones scream and the weak throbbing feeling on my shoulders brought me back to a loud painful groan. His palm smacked against my lips and keels my head backward. The pain, oh god the pain. My nerves felt like they were firing at such a rapid rate that I felt my body twitch under his hand. 

The scent of his palms smelled of fresh dirt and foliage with the hint of death on his fingertips. He placed the knife down on the table next to him and wrapped his other hand around my throat. He gave it a firm squeeze and the feeling of liquid running down my back made me feel light-headed. My squeaks and protests made him squeeze tighter around me. It felt like his fingers were tiny boa constrictors. My body began to convulse and twitch even further but he continues to hold me down. As soon as I quieted down, he let me go. He let go of my head and my neck, but left me on the chair. I didn’t move my head from when he let go. 

“I need you to stay quiet.” My head hasn’t moved from its position. My eyes focused on the blinding light above me. Even the light couldn’t give me hope of any form of escape. The sound of unraveling and riping of tape rang in my ears. My eyes widened as his shadow shades me away from the light. I looked at him. Those cold dead eyes. I felt the cold tape touch my lips and held my own head up. 

“I’ll...clean that up. Don’t worry. You’re okay.” I wasn’t. My sight dropped to the floor. I had no way to run. There was no way I could. Not only did he triple layer the tape on my legs, but he also made me his bitter tea whenever I moved too much or made too much noise. I don’t have any idea of what he put in the tea other than the tiny black seeds he would pour into the boiling water and steep for minutes. Not to mention the number of locks that he installed into his door. How many locks does this guy need? I’m guessing he’s done this many times before.

I raise my sight to his reflection on the window. The sound of a running tap and watching the steam come from the kitchen sink from the window made me wish I was back home washing dishes. I remember that I would always wash the dishes with the hottest water temperature I could handle and watched the steam rise off my forearms and hands when I was done. I would even use slightly hotter water when I would shower and would only get out when the water started feeling even a tiny bit cold. I was in a trance at the sight of steam, the way it just rises and dissipates into the musky air was just hypnotizing. My peaceful stare stopped as soon as I heard the tap shut off. 

A warm wet towel grazes over my wound. My shoulder muscles twitch under the touch of the wet fabric. I felt his hand lay on my shoulders to keep me from moving. I watched him from the window. The way his hair draped over his eyes like thin yellowing vines. I just kept watching him from the window as he focused on wiping me down. He cut up my shirt in the process and peeled the blood-soaked rags away from my body and into the kitchen sink to soak in the hot water. The warmth of the towel and his soft touch was almost comforting. Almost. If this were a different circumstance, I would be overtly grateful and would be home as soon as I can. I mean...if I was allowed to leave that is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More like I want to steal your spine and hide you in my apartment, am I right? :D
> 
> This one is a little short. 
> 
> I really type this kind of stuff when I feel kinda low, also I wash dishes with really hot water. I get cold really easily.


	4. I don't know what to do, To do with your kiss on my neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawrence. Hands. Reader enjoying company bc they lonely.

“You’re beautiful...” His cheeks burned a soft pink as he moved closer to me. His eyes showed a softness I’ve never seen before. I’ve never had a soft look pointed at me in...a long while. I felt my heart thump a little harder than it did before. It rang in my ears and my face, my body, I started to get warm. What is this?

I only sat there and moved my head to watch him walk beside my chair. I look at him from the chair with my face towards him. He looked down at me. That face retained that soft look...but those eyes were hiding something else. His hand cupped my cheek and I was surprised, his hand felt softer than the many times he’s touched me. His hands felt so cold...

“I’m so happy that our threads crossed and that I didn’t let yours go...”, He knelt down and inhaled the scent of my hair. My greasy, dirty hair. I didn’t move and I remained still as he nuzzled his face into my neck. My shoulder moved on its own for him to have more room. 

His stubble scratching against my skin, it started to tickle. I tried to move my body away from his, but he wrapped himself around my torso and kept holding me as I was still stuck in the confines of the seat. His stubble and the air blown from his nose kept tickling my neck, and I felt my body tremble as I had to resist the urge to laugh. 

He stopped doing that as soon as he heard me stifling. He sat away from me, in front of me. He even held his head down into his own palms muttering some nonsense along the lines of “what am I going to do with you?”. I’ve gotten used to those mutterings. He really only ever cut into my skin, dig into my muscles, collect some blood until I felt lightheaded, but still had that anxious look on his face as if I was gonna pull a stunt. I felt that he might be scared of me, even though I haven’t done anything since he brought me here...Other than kicking his plants of course...He never liked it when I did that. 

Tonight was different for some reason. These movements felt soft, gentle, the complete opposite of what he did to me hours before this moment. His hands against my skin never felt so supple. He didn’t smell like rotting meat this time. He kept nuzzling me until he moved away.

My chest started to feel as if it’s throbbing. The cool touches and the graces of his hands, his fingertips. They felt good. I felt as if I wanted to jump into him and have him hold me. What would it even be like between his arms? What was his name again?

“...and the fact you didn’t try to leave...it- it means a lot to me.” His face moved to a small smile. His eyes pointed off to the side as he had done so. His eyes looked at my own for a brief moment before looking away and averting his gaze elsewhere. 

This was such a weird experience. The man who dragged me from the trails, the man who brought me here, who kept me duct-taped to a chair, told me that I’m not leaving and just told me I didn’t even try to...He’s right, I didn’t try to leave. Even if he hurt me, all the cuts he had given me nights before, he’s healed them somehow with some salve he made. He would feed me things, like small things. Leftover fries from his drive-thru meals, the few items he bought from the corner store. He never really buys fresh or at least any form of produce unless it was frozen or packaged. He would feed me until I shifted my head away from the food. He wouldn’t force me to eat. 

“...You’ve been quiet...Even your breathing is quiet when you sleep. Quiet, soft breaths...You...You’re not...You’re not like everyone else...”, His statement fell silent. His fingers twitching and fiddling with his grey sleeves. His movements look nervous while his face kept that serene expression while he’s turned away from me. 

He watches me in my sleep, he feeds me, he’s taking care of me as he said. This is too much to take. There’s no way he’s real. I refuse to believe it. Living on this planet for how long I have been alive, there’s no way...anyone could be this...

...Kind...

“H-...Hey.” I finally said. He swiftly turned around and his eyes darted at me. His mouth was agape and his eyes open slightly, “I-...” I fell quiet again. I didn’t know what to say. His features relaxed again as I pointed my gazed down. His feet patted against the hardwood towards the kitchen. I looked to him again with pleading eyes. His eyes are always looking away, he never holds a gaze. I want him to look at me with that softness again.

“I don’t think...”, why was it so hard to just ask for his name? It’s just a name..., “I don’t think...Your- name...”, Why was I having a hard time speaking right now? When I first got here I was able to talk, were the times I didn’t make me forget? I can talk, I’ve done it before. Why can’t I say it? Speaking felt as if I had cotton balls in my mouth. My mouth was relaxed, was it the tea?

He remained quiet and walked into the bathroom. I’m left alone, in silence..again. I wanted him to touch me again. I had the greatest urge to open my mouth but every time I did, he’d leave the room. 

There would be times where he’d sit on my lap and just trace the curve of my neck. He would mumble about something along the lines of soft skin and bone. He would brush his face lightly into my neck and I’d be warmed up by his toned body. There were days where it’d felt like he’s printed his lips on me, on my body but never on my face. I would feel his slow-paced heartbeat against my chest from when his chest touched my own. His hands were firm...Strong...

His eyes...His..hair...He was so soft with me...

I felt my heart pang against my ribs. My head felt light, I felt like I was happy. Am I happy? My ears and face felt warm, am I blushing right now? I felt my face curve into a small smile as I look at my reflection on the window.

I don’t know what to do with myself now...

**Author's Note:**

> This is so self-indulgent I STG.  
Law might be a bit OOC here, but I thank you for reading. I have more Chapters coming up.


End file.
